


it's almost spring

by notswitzerland



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Widojest Week, all the m9 make an appearance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:27:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25108465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notswitzerland/pseuds/notswitzerland
Summary: Caleb reminds her of Babenon. Or: Mornings at the Lavish Chateau are fraught with realizations.Written for Widojest Week 2020, Prompt 1: Marion Lavorre.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast, The Gentleman | Babenon Dosal/Marion Lavorre | Ruby of the Sea
Comments: 10
Kudos: 133





	it's almost spring

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from hadestown, wait for me pt. II.

Caleb reminds her of Babenon.

Over 20 years ago, when the loss of her lover had still been a fresh, burning, aching wound within her heart- everything had reminded her of Babenon. The taste of sea salt and wine. The starstruck flush of the Chateau servants, pausing dreamy and doe-eyed in their work as she sang. The inky blue of her daughter's curls as she flipped through a book on her lap, asking with uncharacteristic shyness to be named Jester. 

Time marches ever forward. The ache in her heart had never fully disappeared, but with each passing day, as her Jester smiled and giggled at nothing as she painted the walls of her room, she could feel it healing. Not so much an open wound as a scar, like the ones that lined the wizard's arms. 

Caleb reminds her of Babenon. As Jester travels the world and fights witches and dragons and monsters, that's an occurrence that happens less and less these days.

The two of them- Jester, ever the early riser and Caleb, who'd clearly prefer to be working rather than staring at the ceiling chasing after sleep- are seated at a table. There's a plate of sugar-dusted pastries, donuts, and muffins on the table between them. When Marion had awoken, wrapping a brilliant blue robe around herself before taking her tea to a secluded balcony where she could observe the Chateau in silence, Caleb had had an open book, a sheaf of paper, and a handful of ink pens in front of him and seemed to be locked in a world all his own. Later, as Jester had bounded down the stairs, her pink skirt bouncing around her knees and silver bells tinkling at her horns, he'd quickly shoved it all aside in favor of her company, absorbed entirely by her presence from the moment she entered the room. Marion could not help but think of moths, and sunflowers, the planets orbiting the stars, and all manner of other things drawn with adoring surrender to the light. 

She thinks of Babenon. She thinks of the way he'd looked at her as she'd coaxed a flower made of flame into being with nothing but her voice.

Marion can't hear the words they're saying, but she can see the way that Jester's restless energy seems to soften when he greets her. Caleb leans forward, just slightly, as he asks her a question. The smile that plays across Jester's lips as she answers is lovely, genuine and sweet, and it nearly takes her breath away. She wishes with a sudden surge of fierce protectiveness that Babenon had been there, that he'd been a part of Jester's life as she grew up, that he'd been able to be her father. She loves Jester more than anything, but she knows she made mistakes in her sickness and her grief. She knows she left Jester alone.

But Jester isn't alone now.

Caleb nods along as Jester gestures animatedly, pointing to different corners of the Chateau and making faces for emphasis. He looks so- heartbroken, so weary, all the time, but now, eating breakfast alone with Jester, it's as if he's come alive. Marion knows the look of a man in lust- but that's not this, she recognizes. This is the warmth of spring breaking through the chill of winter. This is joy, and light, and something quite impossible like faith. It's the desire to protect and support and understand; it's the exhilarating rush of a heart meeting its match, the heady calm of falling and knowing.

Caleb looks at Jester the way that Babenon looked at her, and while she's always known how very loved Jester was by her companions, the realization fills her heart with a trembling, wistful sense of hope.

At the table below, Jester pauses in her gesticulating to take a long sip of milk- and Caleb uses the opportunity to reach his deft wizard fingers across the table and sneak the last donut out of Jester's hand. It takes her a moment to notice the theft- she sputters, eyes bugging out, before slamming her milk back down against the wooden surface of the table and throwing herself across it.

"Hey! That's mine!"

Jester makes grabby motions towards the donut as Caleb holds it out of her reach, huffing with indignant shock. She is the very image of radiant splendor as she pouts at him, half lying on the table, all wildly curling hair and mustachioed milk. Caleb does a very excellent job of not immediately bursting into laughter; really, he does. He manages to contain himself to red, puffed up cheeks and shaking shoulders for a precious few seconds before surrendering, throwing himself into full bodied peals of laughter that have him squinting his eyes shut and nearly falling out of his chair.

Jester pauses, her expression going soft. Half a second later, a wicked, self-satisfied gleam flashes within her eyes as she finally snatches her donut back, before promptly settling back into her seat. 

"Here," she says. She breaks the donut in two just a bit unevenly as Caleb struggles to catch his breath, holding a hand to his chest as a smile beams across his face. "You can have half."

Oh, Marion realizes, Jester loves him too. 

A startled laugh breaks free from her chest; Jester catches the sound, and her gaze quickly finds Marion where she sits at the balcony. "Mama," she calls out in surprise. Her cheeks flush a deep purple, freckles standing out like a constellation. Caleb freezes beside her, the look of tender joy upon his face dropping behind somber anxiety. 

That, too, reminds her of Babenon.

Jester moves as if to stand, but Marion waves a hand in her direction. "No, my dear, I'll come to you."

In the moment it takes Marion to make her way from the balcony to the table, Jester scrambles to straighten her skirts and wipe the milk from her face, crossing her legs and lacing her fingers neatly together on the table in front of her, adopting an expression of pleasant serenity. Caleb mimics her position, though the way his eyes dart back and forth between them betray his nerves. 

"Good morning, Mama," says Jester warmly. Her hair still rested in a wild mess of curls stop her head.

Caleb drops his gaze, offering her a deep nod. "Frau Lavorre," he mumbles.

Marion smiles back at them, amused by the posturing. "Good morning, my Jester. And to you, Caleb."

She can't help but put a certain knowing emphasis on his name. She knows he'll catch it, and he'll know that she knows he caught it, and he'll know that she intended for him to catch it, and on and on it will go in a delicious cycle of teasing torture.

The twitch at the corner of his eye, the slight, confused tilt of his head, and the way he frowns, struggles to maintain composure, before frowning once again do not fail to disappoint.

"Would you like to sit, Mama?" Jester asks sweetly, motioning to another seat at the table. "Would you like a donut? Caleb, give her your donut."

Caleb wordlessly offers her his half of donut.

Marion feels her smile growing. She holds up a hand to decline. "I am fine, Caleb," she says, "and I would not dream of taking such a precious gift from my daughter away from you. I know how valuable such things can be."

Caleb stares at her, wide-eyed. Behind her, Jester squeaks, letting out a drawn out "Mo-om."

A beat passes.

"Are you going to eat it?" Marion inquires with a demure look.

Caleb balks, then stuffs the donut half into his mouth in its entirety. Marion nods, satisfied, and turns back to Jester, who had shrunk into her seat with an embarrassed flush, one hand clutched anxiously against her mouth.

"My dear, your hair is a mess," she tells her, and gracefully moves to stand behind her, running her hands through her hair to begin the arduous process of untangling the mass of curls. The rush of nagging motherly affection that runs through her is positively stupendous; every measure of time between Jester's visits feels far too long, and every visit cannot possibly be long enough. 

Jester lets out a sigh, and melts into the motion with a smile. Out of the corner of her eye, Marion catches the ghost of a smile on Caleb's lips, quickly replaced by an expression of guilt and doubt.

Caleb doesn't look a thing like Babenon, but the expression is so familiar that it hurts. 

"So," she says, desperately trying to keep her voice light, "what do the two of you have planned today?"

"Well," Jester says, "when the others wake up…"

She launches into a rambling explanation of their group's plans for the day; mostly shopping and research, a visit to the wizard Yussa's tower, and later, a visit to their unfortunately-named ship at the docks. Marion nods along, humming contentedly and commenting when appropriate, and works Jester's hair into an intricate pair of braided buns.

"Caleb, do you have any thread?" Marion asks, holding out a hand absentmindedly when Jester pauses in her musings. 

Caleb rummages in his pockets for a second, then hands her a length of red twine. How appropriate. 

"Thank you," she says, and offers him a grateful smile. She hopes he can see the sincerity.

Caleb smiles tentatively back.

There's a moment of quiet peace as Marion puts the finishing touches on Jester's hair. Caleb, at some point, had pulled his book back in front of him, but he'd spent most of his time toying with the corner of a page and idly glancing at the two of them. Eventually, there's a clatter from the stairs- five sets of footsteps and the wordless babble of five voices.

Beau breaks through the archway first, stretching her arms above her head with a yawn, nearly clocking Fjord in the face when she lets them drop. He rolls his eyes and shoves her lightly, ineffectually, with his shoulder.

"Oh, hey- there you guys are," she says.

"Morning, Beau," says Jester with an easy wave.

Beau grimaces. "Right. Morning, Jester."

Yasha and Veth are right behind them, with Caduceus taking up the rear. Yasha pauses at the sight of Caleb and Jester seated together as Marion plays with her daughter's hair, glancing briefly at Caduceus, whose mouth twitches upwards into a gentle smile. Veth plows forward, rubbing sleep from her eyes, taking a seat next to Caleb. 

"Morning, all," she grouses. Blinks. Then, "Oh, Jester, your hair looks nice."

Jester beams. "Thank you, Veth!"

Fjord clears his throat. "Right, so, uh, change of plans," he begins. The group snaps their attention to him; he crosses his arms across his chest, and Marion is reminded why she initially thought he would be the one to capture her daughter's heart.

"I know we said we were all going to go to Yussa's and the, uh, ship together, but in the interest of saving time so Veth and Jester can spend time with their families," he nods at the two of them, "Beau and I figured it'd be faster to split the party. After all the shopping is done or whatever, Caleb can go to Yussa's, and Beau and I will go talk to Orly."

"Oh," says Jester. Marion could feel the disappointment in her voice. 

Beau quirks her head, gaze sharp. "Jes, you wanna come to the Balleater with us?" Next to her, Fjord grimaces and tucks a hand against his cheek.

"Uh," Jester starts. "Well, I mean- I don't want Caleb to have to go to Yussa's alone," she says awkwardly, toying with the metal of her holy symbol. Marion touches her shoulder gently, praying for warmth and peace to reach her daughter's heart.

"It's okay, I can go with him," says Veth, shrugging.

Jester looks directly at Caleb, biting her lip. He glances at his book, looking pained. Such a hard worker, Marion thinks wildly. Babenon always worked so hard, convinced that he was not enough, that he could never be enough. She worked hard, too- long hours that kept her away from her daughter, long hours spent singing and smiling in the company of the wealthy and the powerful rather than the people that she loved. 

Caleb meets Jester's gaze, and the look on his face turns determined. He snaps his book shut with a smile.

"Actually," he says, "I don't need to go to Yussa." A pause. "I think I'd rather spend time with all of you."

Oh.

Jester lets out a relieved exhale. Caduceus' smile widens into a grin. Beau's eyebrows jump across her forehead.

"Ok, if you're sure," Fjord shrugs, then begins heading towards the door. "I say we get breakfast on the way."

Jester jumps up and gives Marion a peck on the cheek. "Bye Mama!" 

Marion pats her hand. "I'll see you later, Jester. Have fun."

"I know a place we could go," suggests Yasha.

"No!" Fjord yelps, panicked. 

Caleb gathers his books, pens, and papers into a system of organized chaos that only he could decipher. The sight makes the corners of her mouth turn up in amusement. She reaches out a hand and places it on his arm; he goes still under her touch, but meets her gaze head-on.

"Caleb," Marion says, "I meant what I said earlier."

Caleb stares at her, then after his party. They were waiting for him at the doorway, chattering idly. "I know," he says.

"I hope you have a nice time today," she tries.

Caleb looks at Jester. Then he looks at her, and there's resignation and acceptance in his face that he doesn't try to hide. "I will."

Marion releases his arm with a nod. He bows his head respectfully, and then Caleb and Jester, along with Fjord, Beau, Veth, Yasha, and Caduceus, all make their way out of the Chateau and out into the bustling streets of Nicodranas. 

Her heart goes with them, she thinks. She clutches her hands tight against her chest, right over the spot where that trembling, longing sensation of hope seems to rest- hope for Jester, but also hope for the rest of the Mighty Nein. Hope for the future. Caleb loves Jester the way that Babenon loved her- perhaps loves her still- but Caleb is not Babenon, and thank the gods, Jester is not her. She prays, and prays, and prays with every beat of her heart, every rush of breath, every fiber of her being that Caleb and Jester will not be doomed to repeat their tragedy.

Maybe the story will turn out different this time.

**Author's Note:**

> widojest discord, this one's for you.
> 
> actually, they're all for you. whoops.


End file.
